


Sometimes, Legends Lie

by at1stsoo



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Angst, M/M, Romance, Some Humor, Underworld, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2018-12-31 18:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12138378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/at1stsoo/pseuds/at1stsoo
Summary: A newly deceased man gets a tour of the Underworld and notices a lone figure repeatedly pushing an immense boulder up a steep hill, only to watch it roll back down again. "What's that about?" he asks his guide. "Ah that: That is a long story."





	Sometimes, Legends Lie

**Author's Note:**

> _Self-prompt_
> 
> I enjoyed working on this au and trying something new. Thank you to the lovely mods and to all the writers and readers participating in the fest.

_It’s muggy._ This is Jongdae’s first thought upon waking up on the other side of life. He blinks hard, wiping little beads of sweat out of his eyes. The last thing he remembers is running headlong into the opposing army’s charge and dodging an enemy spear thrown at him.

 

Well, trying to, at least. Apparently, his dodging skills were shit. He gingerly touches the hole in his chest and yelps as he watches it start to slowly close up, the flesh reconstituting little by little. Squeamish even in death, he tries not to wretch. He averts his eyes and ends up taking in his new surroundings.

 

Steam rises from the dark umber ground all around him, though it’s not excessively hot in this barren land. Behind him, there are faint sounds of battle and horse hooves. Up ahead, about twenty paces, he can barely make out a river cutting lazily across the rocky wasteland. No man’s land. He’s in the great divide between his past and his permanent future.

 

Frantically, Jongdae checks the pockets of his army-issued tunic and sighs in relief upon finding a coin. He thanks the Theban militia for at least giving him Baekhyun’s obol for safe passage into the afterlife. He ventures forward cautiously, avoiding the slight puffs of steam the pop out of the crevices under his feet. What’s there to worry about, he’s dead, he tries to reason with himself, but it’s instinctual to protect oneself. Perhaps pain still exists in the Underworld.

 

When he arrives on the bank of the River Styx, he peers up and down the waterway but sees nothing. He squats down carefully to wait. Unbidden, a pale-faced beauty back in Thebes floats through his mind. How will the man react to Jongdae’s absence when the troops return in a few weeks’ time? _Will he even notice._ Sigh.

 

While he’s lost in the fog of his own daydreaming, a small wooden boat approaches, parting the steamy air like a curtain. Jongdae scrambles to his feet, unsure if he should wave and shout or just assume the hooded figure steering the boat with his oar will notice him. The person piloting the boat moves his paddle lethargically. Each slow carve through the water gives off a menacing feel.

 

The watercraft is almost even with his position on the bank when Jongdae finally summons the courage to speak up, lest he be passed by. “Excuse me!”

 

The man in the boat shrieks and nearly loses his paddle in the murky waters. “What in the name of Suho!”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Why’d you wait until I was a few feet away to scream at me?”

 

“I thought… I thought you might sense me on your own?”

 

“What am I, a fucking bloodhound? Was I supposed to smell you from a kilometer away?”

 

The figure stares at him with fierce, bluish-grey eyes that are not quite human. The arched eyebrow he’s wearing perfectly portrays a very human sense of sarcasm and sass, though. “I don’t know,” Jongdae fumbles. “You seemed... contemplative. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

 

“Except you totally did.” He points his oar directly at Jongdae, accusingly.

 

This isn’t going well. He’s dependent on this guy to get to… wherever he’s going. “My apologies. I was looking for Baekhyun?”

 

“You’ve found him.” Baekhyun stands in his boat, arms folded across his front, staring at him expectantly.

 

Oh. OH. “I have a coin.” Jongdae holds the grubby obol up as proof of his payment.

 

“Alright, now we’re talking. Hand it here.” The ferryman extends his left hand out from his pool of robes. The skin is withered and a disconcerting smoky shade, but Jongdae tries not to stare as he drops the coin carefully in his palm.

 

Baekhyun’s hand retreats back into his coal black robes, depositing the obol somewhere. The hand reappears with a paper ticket that he examines before giving it to Jongdae.

 

_Kim Jongdae, Destination: Mourning Fields_

 

“The Mourning Fields, huh?” the ferryman says with a bemused tone. “You sorry bastard. Who was she?”

 

Jongdae shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Do I have to tell you in order to board the boat?”

 

“No, I’m just a curious soul, bored with his job and stuck with newly dead humans as my only sources of amusement. I like to collect your kinds’ stories to keep me company on my trips around the Underworld. Sad ones are usually my favorite. Make me feel better about _my_ existence.”

 

“Well, that’s awfully self-serving,” Jongdae says with disdain, climbing onto the boat.

 

Baekhyun rocks the vessel unnecessarily, causing Jongdae to stumble backwards onto his ass. “Watch the backtalk. I’m still captain of this ferry. I can make your ride pleasant or… turbulent.”

 

Right. Fickle bastard, duly noted. “Let’s say I tell you who it was that landed me in Mourning Fields. What’s in it for me?”

 

Baekhyun rubs his chin thoughtfully. “A trade? Okay, I’ll give you the long route to your final destination, a mini-tour of the Underworld of sorts, complete with some of my favorite spots.”

 

Well, might as well enjoy roaming the Underworld while he can. He’s not exactly in a hurry to get to the eternal resting place for sad love. “Okay, fine.”

 

“Excellent! So, how did you meet her? Was she chambermaid? A brother’s wife?” Baekhyun asks, a little too gleeful to learn his story.

 

“No… first of all, it wasn’t a she.”

 

“Oh? Is it a nameless slave boy you fell for? Or your own brother!”

 

“No,” Jongdae sighs in frustration. “Do you want me to tell my story or would you rather play Guess Who for the rest of eternity?”

 

Baekhyun contemplates this for a second too long, making Jongdae wish he’d never asked, before inclining his robed head and gesturing for him to continue.

 

“I crossed paths with him in the market one morning when I was 12 years old. I was nervous because it was my first trip there on my own, and I ended up dropping my purse of coins. They scattered everywhere, and a boy standing by a nearby stall noticed and came over. He was kind, helped me gather them up before they were trampled underfoot, and when I looked up to thank him...” Jongdae sighs dreamily, remembering it like it was yesterday. “His face shone like the sun, I swear.”

 

“Humans and their impassioned love at first sight nonsense,” Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “Skip the gushing over his physical attributes, I’ve heard it all before.”

 

Jongdae blinks a few times, trying to get over memories of the crinkles in the boy’s eye smile. “Every time I went to market from that day onward, I’d look for him, and I was lucky enough to cross paths with him almost weekly. He’d bestow upon me the most glimmering smile and ask if I’d lost any coins that day. On a good day, I’d get to talk with him for minute before he was summoned along by his mother. On a less fortunate day, I wouldn’t get to say anything in return at all. But it went on like that for several years, until he didn’t come to the market anymore.”

 

“Well why not? And why didn’t you keep in touch outside of this grocery run and fulfill a relationship with him if you were so smitten?”

 

“He was of a higher class than I. My family doesn’t own land, we’re laborers, and his family is… not.”

 

“I see, classic ‘poor boy, rich boy’ story. Why not try to better your station in life and try for his heart, anyway?”

 

“I did - well, was trying to anyway, when I died.”

 

Baekhyun gives him a skeptical look. “In case you haven’t noticed, you died on the field of battle.”

 

“Yeah, about that… the boy I loved… turned out to be Kim Minseok.”

 

At this admission, the ferryman roars so loudly with laughter, his hood nearly slips off. “You fell in _love_ with the Prince of Thebes?? Wait, don’t tell me: you joined the army in hopes of impressing him, only to get run-through on your first trip into battle.” Jongdae’s tight-lipped exhale and narrowed eyes convey that he’s spot on. “Oh my gracious, this is in contention for the most _pathetic_ Mourning Fields story I ever heard! Unrequited love between a future king and a peasant-turned-soldier. Did he even know your name, this prince of yours you died to impress?”

 

“... he knew my face at least. I swear he recognized me when we were commissioned out on our journey to battle,” Jongdae crosses his arms in defiance. He could’ve won Minseok over, he’s sure of it, if he’d been able to rise to the rank of commander. If only he’d had better reflexes… He imagines the crown prince, regal in his robes, perched upon his ornate seat back in Thebes, and pines.

 

“Okay, I’m sorry. Don’t think too much about it right now. You’ll have all the time in the world, quite literally, for that later. Let’s have some fun, shall we? I promised you a grand tour, let us do the full circuit of the river Styx.” Without further ado, Baekhyun picks up the pace, stroking his oar through the inky black water and sending them downstream, further and further away from the desolate wasteland where Jongdae boarded the boat.

 

They travel through the Grove of Yixing, admiring all the willow and poplar trees. It’s spring, so Yixing is topside, helping the earth bloom anew, rather than strolling along the winding paths of the grove. They move on, closer to Kris’ palace. Jongdae gets to “meet” the immense guardian to the palace gates, an intimidating three-headed beast. He watches with disturbed awe as Baekhyun playfully talks to each of the three heads in turn.

 

“Yes, Mongryong, aren’t you the cutest?” The first dog head snarls unattractively at Jongdae but laps at Baekhyun’s ugly long fingers. The second and third heads growl at each other, seemingly arguing. “Toben, Vivi, settle down. I have treats for everyone.” The ferryman produces three bones from his mysterious robes and delivers them into their ferocious jaws.

 

Jongdae tries not to think about where the femur-sized bones came from.

 

When demonic puppy playtime is over, Baekhyun suggests that he brace himself. “We’re headed into the true depths of the Underworld now.”

 

As they enter Tartarus, Jongdae feels his skin prickle with sweat, like exposure in a field with no breeze in the stifling summer heat. Everything here is tinged with red, as though it’s tainted with anger and righteous hate. The misty haze suspended in the air, once a soft white, is now a rosy pink, and even the once-blackened river waters seem to glow the color of cabernet wine.

 

Off in the distance, Jongdae sees a lone figure on a jagged, narrow hill that juts up out of this murky, garnet water. A man, short in stature with a muscular build, strains to reach the peak because he’s shoving an immense boulder up the path in front of him. The man succeeds in pushing the rock up to the top, only to step to the side and watch it roll back down right afterward.

 

“What’s that about?” Jongdae asks his guide, gesturing toward the man now trudging down the hill after the boulder.

 

“Ah that: That is a long story.”

 

Baekhyun continues to paddle along with a somber face. After a few seconds of silence, Jongdae speaks again. “…so, you gonna tell it to me or…?”

 

“Oh, sorry. Usually people just let it go at that.” Baekhyun clears his throat and uses the paddle to slow the boat to a stop. “That is Do Kyungsoo.”

 

This Kyungsoo does not seem to notice them watching him from several meters away, focused wholly on his task of trying to get the rock dislodged from the base of the hill.

 

“Don’t fall in love,” Baekhyun teases. “But he was once royalty, too. King of Ephyra, long ago.”

 

“What’d he do?” Jongdae asks, watching Kyungsoo struggle to keep a good grip on the rocky hill with his bare feet as he shoves the boulder up the slanted path.

 

“Ah, more like, what didn’t he do? Kyungsoo was a brilliant, but ruthless ruler. Ephyra flourished under him, but he had quite the temper. Regularly executed travelers who irked him. Legend says he once killed a bard named Chanyeol simply because the guy laughed too obnoxiously at his own joke. This offended Suho, naturally, to so openly violate the sacred act of hospitality. Never a great idea to go affronting the king of the gods. On top of that, he was always feuding with his brother, and even tried to scheme his kids into killing him. You know - all the usual insanity you find in your royal human families.”

 

Jongdae grimaces, wondering about the implications for Minseok, but shakes it off. “If it’s so typical, why is he here in Tartarus doing… whatever it is he’s doing?”

 

“Ah yes, those sins against the gods were but minor infractions. Given how the Ephryan civilians under his rule prospered greatly, Kyungsoo _probably_ would’ve managed to drift into Asphodel Meadows, except for his final offense. Because Kyungsoo was known to be wily, Kris himself left the Underworld to go claim him when the time came for him to--” Baekhyun drags a thumb across his throat, making an exaggerated death face, crossing his eyes and lolling his head to the side.

 

“No one knows exactly how, but Kyungsoo managed to get Kris bound up in his own shackles.” Baekhyun leans in and quietly whispers, “My money’s on a sexy explanation for that one. You know gods: notoriously thirsty.”

 

Jongdae snorts.

 

“Anyway, with Kris, king of the Underworld, handcuffed in Kyungsoo’s palace, no one could die. You can imagine the chaos. Finally, Tao, god of war, was sick of his battles never having a clear winner, since people would get a spear through the middle” --he gestures unnecessarily at Jongdae’s battle scar-- “and just keep on going. So he went himself to Ephyra, to free Kris and deliver Kyungsoo to the Underworld.”

 

Jongdae continues to listen with rapt attention while watching the former king, with blistered hands and soles, shove the boulder up the hill yet again.

 

“Only… Tao released Kris and let Kyungsoo go free. Made no move to track him down. It was quite the scandal among the gods; was Kyungsoo really so clever as to trick two of the highest immortals? Back to back?” Baekhyun lets the question linger, taking a moment to watch Kyungsoo reach the top with his rock. There's less than a split second of relief in his sagging shoulders, before the boulder rolls back down.

 

“For many years, I wondered as well. Kyungsoo shows up down here about a decade later. Suho and Kris sentenced him to Tartarus, and this never-ending task you see before you. What I always found interesting, though, is that Kyungsoo didn’t fight it. On that day of judgment, he came willingly.” Baekhyun purses his lips, solemn. “So I had to ask him what really happened. And it’s...” he sighs and shakes his head with an unamused laugh.

 

“It’s all about a boy. Name was Jongin, and he was one of the intellectuals of Kyungsoo’s court, a most trusted advisor. Well, originally an advisor. Somewhere along the line, the two became lovers. They weren't exactly secretive about it, either. Too many intimate whispers and full body blushes in the presence of others. The whole court was murmuring how changed Kyungsoo seemed to be, how gentle he was becoming the closer he became with Jongin.

 

“Suddenly, though, Jongin fell ill with an unknown malady that left him in bouts of intense pain and lethargy. Kyungsoo was desperately trying to find a cure, consulting the best physicians and priestesses. He was on two straight days of no rest and no luck. Just then,” Baekhyun makes a poof sound, accentuating it with his ashen fingers, “Kris appeared. When Kyungsoo saw the god of the Underworld, ruler over death, in his palace, he was convinced he had come for his Jongin. And Kyungsoo did the unthinkable, trapping the deity in his own chains. All to buy Jongin more time.

 

“Knowing he’d sealed his eternal fate with that move, Kyungsoo had nothing left to lose. He could incur any debt to any god at this point, it didn’t matter. So he went straight to Irene, goddess of remedies, and begged for Jongin to be cured at any cost. She took compassion on him and agreed, provided he would surrender to her uncles when they came for him at last. She had watched the saga with her fellow gods unfold just wanted peace to be restored. Their pact was, of course, a secret.”

 

Jongdae stares at Baekhyun, mouth slightly agape. “So Jongin was healed?”

 

“Yep. He and Kyungsoo ran off into the wilderness, hoping to lay low. Kyungsoo gave up his kingdom to become a nomadic fugitive, but he always had his Jongin by his side. They loved and lived a simple life in the forests for a couple years until an aneurysm took Kyungsoo in his sleep."

 

"Seems a short time, given the consequences," Jongdae comments quietly.

 

"I think it was longer than Kyungsoo anticipated getting, actually. He suspects that Irene shared with Tao the true reason for why he handcuffed Kris, because surely the god of war could've found them otherwise.”

 

Jongdae contemplates the gravity of the story and starts to question his own feelings and choices regarding his darling prince Minseok.

 

“So that’s the real kicker: The supreme gods of Olympus and the Underworld end up punishing Kyungsoo for his 'hubris,' that he would think himself clever enough to outsmart them and cheat death. That’s the story everyone hears: King Kyungsoo, the cunning bastard who tricked the gods one too many times for his own selfish gain and now pays the price for it. But in reality, he did it for Jongin. Extended that lucky boy’s life for decades before death came back around for him.”

 

“Did you ferry Jongin across, when he died?” Jongdae wonders, leaning forward.

 

“Yes.” A terse answer for such a talkative storyteller.

 

“Where did he end up?” Jongdae asks with a thick swallow. "Will I... see him in the Mourning Fields?"

 

“I know he was offered a place in Elysium. That’s what his ticket said.” A cryptic reply, dodgy.

 

“What do you mean?” Jongdae asks.

 

Reluctance for the first time appears on Baekhyun's face before he decides to explain. “He knew that to enter Elysium, he’d have to drink from the Lethe river."

 

Jongdae's eyes widen as he catches on. "The river of forgetfulness, which erases all memories from your earthly life, including..."

 

Baekhyun solemnly nods. "He sat there, right where you are, and sobbed. Couldn’t decide if he could really make himself forget Kyungsoo.” Baekhyun turns his face away, and starts to paddle again, as if wanting to abandon the conversation.

 

"So you don't know what he chose?"

 

Baekhyun shrugs. "Which option is worse? Some things, even a soulless creature like myself doesn't want to know." He picks up his oar and makes to turn the boat away.

 

"You weren't going to stop here if I hadn't requested it," Jongdae surmises.

 

"No, I wasn't."

 

"But you said sad stories are your favorite."

 

"I said they're _usually_ my favorite." With a hard stare, Baekhyun plunges his paddle deep into the waters and sets the vessel in motion.

 

Maybe it’s the tragic separation from his loved one, maybe it’s just morbid curiosity, but Jongdae feels compelled to meet this martyr and his stone. “Wait! Can I talk to him?”

 

Baekhyun stops the boat and gives him a curious look. “To Kyungsoo?”

 

He nods with a quiet frown upon his lips, showing that he’s serious about this.

 

“If you let anything I just told you about Jongin slip--" Baekhyun shoves the edge his oar underneath Jongdae's chin, pressing it menacingly against his soft throat. Baekhyun's blue-gray eyes glow intensely.

 

"I won't, I promise," Jongdae quickly insists. "I just... want to understand his perspective."

 

A curt nod, and the paddle is withdrawn. "Alright, fine. But I’ll warn you: You don’t want to set foot in Tartarus for too long, lest it be confused that you intend to stay. Ten minutes, no more,” Baekhyun cautions, sculling through the water until the boat drifts up to the foot of the rocky hill. “Go on, but be careful on the steps. I’ll be back for you in just a bit.”

 

Jongdae disembarks the boat and starts up the narrow steps that track alongside the path of the boulder, striding quickly to catch up to where the man battles his rock, currently about one-third of the way up the hill. “Kyungsoo!” he calls out.

 

Kyungsoo’s head turns slightly in his direction, but he doesn’t stop his journey toward the top. “Who are you?” he asks. His voice is a deep rumble, akin to the noises his boulder makes as it crunches across gravel.

 

“I’m Jongdae. Newly deceased. Baekhyun, um, Baekhyun told me about your story,” he starts, uncomfortable as he realizes he probably knows way too much personal information about Kyungsoo given that they’ve never met. Is he creepy? He’s being creepy, isn’t he.

 

But Kyungsoo doesn’t seem bothered. “Did he now? How much of it?”

 

“Um… all of it, I think? Like, the whole putting Kris in chains, stealing away with Jongin, then dying for real, that kind of recap,” Jongdae blabbers. Okay, wow - he really should have thought this through. Sure, they both sacrificed themselves for the ones they loved, but he and Kyungsoo are not nearly as similar as he was thinking a few moments ago. Kyungsoo battled gods and won. Jongdae battled a single spear, and lost.

 

The boulder slips a little on some loose gravel on the steep path, and Jongdae stresses for a moment, hands extending as if to help ensure the hulking rock doesn’t squish the worker behind it, but Kyungsoo seems ready for it. “I got it, I got it. I’ve done this a time or two,” he deadpans.

 

A sense of humor, however dark. That’s unexpected.

 

“So if you already know my story, what brings you over here? Aren’t you worried you’re wasting your last precious minutes roaming free through the Underworld by talking to me? Or are you a new permanent resident here?”

 

“No, no, just passing through. But I’m… curious,” Jongdae admits. “About a few things.”

 

Kyungsoo nods to signal his willingness to entertain his questions and keeps ascending the hill, straining against the stone.

 

Jongdae takes a quick glance around before whispering confidentially. “Have you ever thought about just not rolling it the next time it falls down?”

 

A bemused smirk crosses the cursed man’s lips. “Of course. I tried that after the very first trip.”

 

“And??”

 

“I get thrown into the water.”

 

Jongdae peers down into the mysterious depths below. “Can’t swim?”

 

“No, I can,” Kyungsoo replies. “But not as fast as the piranhas.” He twists his upper body slightly to reveal some teeth-shaped scars. “Decided this hurt less,” he explains, using his calloused hands to get the momentum up during a relatively flat stretch of the incline. “What else?”

 

Jongdae purses his lips, considering if his next inquiry is too personal. “What do you think about, when you’re rolling the stone up the hill?”

 

“Jongin, of course.”

 

Jongdae grimaces. “How he was the one who lead to all this? You’re... you’re bitter over it?”

 

Kyungsoo laughs humorlessly. “No. You misunderstand. I’m _always_ thinking of Jongin. The ones we love never leave our minds.”

 

Jongdae frowns again, not sure he likes that answer. He continues climbing along the rugged path, watching Kyungsoo carefully. “So you still love him.”

 

“That I do,” Kyungsoo grunts out, pushing the large stone through a particularly nasty pothole. How many times has he gotten it wedged in this bumpy rut and had to press on regardless?

 

Jongdae deliberates if he should ask or not, but ultimately whispers his final question. “But… the protection you gave him was temporary. I mean, we all die eventually. Do you regret it? Tricking Kris, ending up with this eternal struggle?”

 

They’ve reached the top of the hill, and the rock seems to lock in place for a moment. Sweat pours down Kyungsoo’s temples, which he wipes away with a deep sigh. He turns and stares Jongdae straight in the eye. “Nope.”

 

The platform the boulder had settled into suddenly tips, and the stone rolls, slowly at first, then picking up speed. It tumbles down the long path until it slams into the wall at the bottom with a sickening boom.

 

“I’d do it all over again for those few perfect years I got to share with Jongin. That’s something people often claim, but only as an empty promise. _‘Oh I’d do it all over again.’_ Well. I actually do. I get to do this over, and over, and over, and over…” Kyungsoo has already started walking back down the path, down to his fate. Jongdae trots to catch up and notices the slightly maniacal twinkle in his eye as he continues to repeat the words until they reach the bottom. “…and over again. How many years has it been? No, don’t tell me. Time is irrelevant. I’m eternally proving my love to him. And he’ll never know. BUT,” he announces as he reaches the base of the hill and sharply pivots around to catch the onlooker’s eye, “it’s better that way.”

 

“That’s… really sad,” Jongdae replies with a frown.

 

He watches Kyungsoo reposition himself behind the boulder and cast him one last glance before restarting his endless task. “Where do you think we are, kid? Of course it’s sad.

 

“This is hell.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kyungsoo = Sisyphus  
> Baekhyun = Charon, the ferryman  
> Suho = Zeus  
> Kris = Hades  
> Tao = Ares  
> Yixing = Persephone  
> Mongyrong, Toben, & Vivi = Cerebus  
> Irene = Iaso
> 
> Much of Sisyphus’s story is faithfully represented here. Except for the Jongin storyline, which is entirely fictional and born out of the thought: What if the legends got Sisyphus all wrong?


End file.
